


Love At First Sight

by adistraughtthought



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, explicit - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-12
Updated: 2016-01-12
Packaged: 2018-05-13 11:26:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5705953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adistraughtthought/pseuds/adistraughtthought
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With the way Nora’s been sighing at the boys in here, maybe ‘girl time’ isn’t what she’s after.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love At First Sight

"Maybe a bar was a bad idea, Nora," Jenny sighs, twirling a manicured finger through all the smoke in the air. She takes a sip of her drink to hide her small, red frown and smooths down her casual blue dress.  

The bar is dark and filled with neon lights hazed by cigarette smoke. It's a dive to be sure, but enough people are packed in that you could forget about the dark, chipping paint on the walls or the concrete floor. The music from the jukebox frantically pumps out enough noise to fill any gaps in conversation.

Jenny and Nora sit perched like little birds on one end of the bar, while most of the other patrons are in an empty area on the other side of the place. Loud and boisterous, the other customers seem to be celebrating something. Most of the men are in military uniforms (some more unkempt than others). Army, she figures, more by the way they're behaving, than their uniforms.  

Nora starts at her friend's comment, pulling her eyes from the men on the other side of the bar.

"Sorry, Jenny." Nora gnaws at her lip, smudging her makeup. Her hands wring at her too-professional-for-a-bar outfit: black pencil skirt and white blouse. "It's just that I haven't been out in awhile and I was thinking about-"

"About the impending bar exam, yes, Nora, I know," Jenny lets out a teasing long-suffering sigh. "You've been studying so much, though. I thought you deserved a break, like a girls night out?" Jenny nudges her friend playfully. With her own man out of town, Jenny thought she would treat Nora.  

 _Although, with the way Nora's been sighing at the boys in here, maybe 'girl time' isn't what she's after_ , Jenny thinks with a devilish smirk.

"Hey, can we get another round here?" Jenny plucks her finger at the bartender while Nora quietly protests. "And make my friend's here a double!"

 _Well, worrying about it won't make me do any better_ , Nora thinks as she downs her glass and accepts the new one with Jenny cheering her on.  With a small noise of triumph, she leads Nora to the other side of the bar.

Upon closer inspection, there are a lot less people here than Nora originally thought. Most of the room is being taken up by a large, circular table that seems to be the epicenter of this madness. A single, overflowing ashtray in the center looks to be the sole source of smoke in the whole bar. There are five soldiers playing a sort of card game, while three soldiers and the rest of the patrons congregate around the table to spectate.  

"Gentlemen," a female voice calls out, cutting through the noise. Sitting at the table, a female soldier has one hand full of cards and the other in a sloppy salute. The her uniform top has been stripped to hang at her waist, with a form fitting military t-shirt stark white against her dark skin.

"Let me just say, it has been an honor and a privilege to take your money this evening," she says, overly sincere and sarcastic. The men boo and jeer her good-naturedly as she continues. "And I want all of you to know that you will come to appreciate me kicking your asses in cards when this money is spent on a shiny new bone saw instead of drinks."

The men at the table erupt in laughter, covering their faces and gripping each other for support.

"Good one, Spurlock!"  

"Yeah right, like you care!"

"You're gonna spent it on drinks like the rest of us, and when time comes to chop off a limb, you're gonna use the same damned Ripper you always have," one scolds from a barstool, but his heart's not in it and a smirk threatens to break his façade of tough leadership.  

"Ah, Sarge, you caught me!" Spurlock grips her chest like a shot to the heart, then gives a lazy salute as she downs her drink, laying out her cards. By the men's groans of defeat, Nora guesses that she had a good hand.

Cards and palms slap the table as most of the soldiers scrape their chairs backwards, eager to leave the game.  

"Fuck that," one of the men calls out. "She'll lose eventually, I ain't backin down!"

"Forget it, Mears, we've been at this all night."

"Better luck next time, Mears," Spurlock says sweetly as she swipes the cash off the table. "At any rate, looks like you might have a couple of takers here, yeah?" She gestures towards Nora and Jenny who were at the moment trying to nudge each other into introductions.  

"Oh! That depends on what game you're playing, I'm afraid," Jenny looks around anxiously, while being anything but. She pours the little-ol-me act on a bit thick, tossing her ponytail over her shoulder.

Nora bites back a laugh. Jenny was the biggest card shark she's ever known. Before Jenny met her fiancé, she was good in her own right, but after? He created a monster, trained her into having the best damn poker face this side of Fenway.  

"Well, good evening, ladies," the man called 'Sarge' says, standing up from his barstool. "I hope my men didn't disturb your night on the town. If they did, I guarantee they will regret it."

"Aw, cmon, Sarge, you're gonna scare 'em off"

"Yeah, Daniels, nothing's even broken yet!"  

"My name is Sergeant Daniels," he cuts off his men and extends a tanned hand to Jenny, first, then Nora. "And the game is poker."

Nora watches Jenny's eyes light up and can't help the small smile tugging at her lips. Her friend's glee is contagious, it seems. Jenny pretends to think it over and finally nods, ponytail bobbing.  

"Good to meet you, I'm Jenny," she says as she finds an open chair at the table while Nora perches on a stool. The men follow Jenny's form until their sight rests on the ring on her left hand and the predatory look mostly vanishes, seeing only someone's sweet girl trying to play cards with the big boys. Spurlock shakes her head with a knowing smile and winks at Jenny. She knows the game, and isn't willing to give up her crown to the newcomer without a fight, it seems. Jenny grins a bit too wickedly.

 _This should be fun_ , Nora thinks.

* * *

Spurlock might have chased the men away, but Jenny brought them back like bees to honey. Her ring might announce she's taken, but they're red-blooded men in a bar. Eager to show off to a soft civilian woman for the first time in about a year, they boast louder, flex more noticeably, and place larger bets.

Nora shakes her head with a smile and thinks that Jenny might have been a con artist in another lifetime.  

Alone at the bar top, Nora starts sipping at her double Jenny ordered her to loosen her up. It's not that she's antisocial or nervous: quite the opposite. As a soon-to-be-lawyer, her people skills are refined to an edge. This gives her an ability to read people a bit too well for polite conversation and sometimes leads to awkward revelations. Nora has stopped counting how many times her needling questions have brought men confessing too much to her: leaving them befuddled as to why they admitted to having a girl already and her just disappointed on a barstool. Alone.  

So drinking doesn't calm Nora's nerves, but it does fog her senses a bit; it takes the edge out of her probing words. It might actually give her a normal girl's chance at getting a nice, respectable man.  

Though if she's being honest with herself, at this point even a one night stand would do.  

With that thought, Nora takes another slugs from her glass and turns her stool towards the game. From her vantage point, she can see half the men's cards, as well as Jenny's, but it's too early on in the game to tell who's in a better position. Suddenly, her field of view is entirely taken up by a solid forest green jacket.  

"Aren't you interested in playing?" the jacket asks. Nora blinks and guides her eyes up to a face. Wide dark eyes look questioningly into her own, with one strong brow raised. His smile is friendly, but hesitant, as if he might be intruding.  

"Against Jenny? There are easier, less embarrassing ways to lose my money," Nora jokes, pushing her shoulder-length hair behind her ears. This earns her a laugh, deep and rumbling.  

"Not too sure about that, ma'am. Spurlock plays for keeps. I've never actually seen her lose, come to think of it," he trails off, tapping a finger to his chin and staring at the ceiling.

He physically shakes off the thought and hops on an empty barstool next to Nora, leaving one empty between them. He knows he's imposing and gives her a bit of room to politely shoot him down.  

 _Thoughtful_ , Nora thinks to herself, using the distance to check him out. He's tall, with dark hair that's long on the top and shaved at the sides. He's tanned, but with his jacket sleeves rolled up she can see harsh tan lines at his wrists: his tan is from the necessity of his profession, instead of vanity.

His posture makes him look like less of an imposing figure than he actually is. Nora guesses he must be over 6 feet, but a little slouching and an open, non-threatening demeanor allowed her to initially overlook his height and strength. Thick cords of muscle wrap up his forearm while his biceps look impressively hard without flexing.

The man is one of a few to still have most of his uniform on but from the way the first few buttons on his jacket are undone, it won't be for long. Upon closer, covert inspection, the jacket he's wearing looks a bit too small at the chest and shoulders and Nora takes a moment to wonder what his chest looks like. He's sitting far back enough on the stool to be able to swing his legs back and forth, a bit childishly, with a knowing smile dancing on his wide mouth while she checks him out.  

 _At least she's taking the time to look at me and not just the rank and uniform_ , he thinks to himself.

He allows her the moment to look freely while he slyly gets a look at her. He saw her from across the room already and got quite an eyeful while her attention was diverted. A tight, knee length skirt hugs her form and shows off her fair legs. A loose blouse allows her assets to move a bit more freely. This revelation is what drove him to speak with her initially, but he has to admit to himself that up close there are other features he might enjoy more.  

The woman's face is delicate, with arched eyebrows and a small nose. Dark eyes framed by dark lashes and darker still makeup gives her a look that's both smoldering and calculating at the same time. Her lips look soft, even though they're painted a harsh red. Pale skin is offset by shiny dark hair. It's pushed back behind one ear and soft curls cascade down across her throat, ending at her collarbone. He swallows hard.

 _Her eyes are up there_ , he thinks to himself chidingly. A year deployed at Anchorage has done nothing to cool his blood. Thankfully, she starts talking again which cuts off his train of thought much more effectively than his willpower ever could.

"Nothing against your Spurlock, but I bet Jenny has a few more advantages to her side," Nora says playfully and nods towards her friend who is currently raking in a small pile of cash. He smiles for real, showing a sliver of straight white teeth and rakes a hand through his hair.

"Were enlisted men allowed to bet _currency_ , I might take you up on that," he says with a teasing smile.

Nora takes a moment to note the distinction he made by saying 'currency'. He's being friendly, but it's on the cusp of something more. He's leading the conversation, but allowing her to set the tone.  

He sees her working it over in her mind and pauses to mentally pats himself on the back for being so clever.

"Spurlock's the best poker player the 108th Infantry Batt. has ever seen. In fact, there are standing orders to keep her out of casinos while we're on leave," the man chuckles and rolls his eyes. "As if anyone but Sergeant Daniels could enforce that," he flicks the pin on his jacket that shows his rank: private.  

"If you can't bet ' _currency_ ', what can you bet, private?" Nora asks sarcastically. The man's eyes flash and the corner of his mouth twitches.

 _So, she's into me after all,_ he muses.  

"We _are_ in a bar… I could bet you a drink, but it looks like you already have one. You haven't had a cigarette since you walked in and I don't smoke anyway, so I'm no help there. How about a dance?" he grins sheepishly and rubs the back of his head.  

"Well, private, I guess that all depends. Do they give you names where you come from or just a rank and serial number?" Nora asks lightly, pointedly nodding at the nameplate on his chest that only reads a rank and last name, no first name.  

The man's face flushes with embarrassment and he sputters a bit. He doesn't know how long he's been talking to her, but he knows it's way too long than is polite without introductions.  

Nora would feel sorry for making him feel embarrassed, if she didn't like how his blush tinged his ears and cheeks like a winter chill would. Still, she smiles apologetically and holds up a finger to her lips to stop him from continuing.  

"How about this: I bet you Jenny will win the next round of cards. If I win, you tell me your name. If I lose, I'll tell you mine. Maybe after that, maybe we can talk about dances. Deal?" Nora holds out a hand and it represents the bet well as a lifeline to save him from drowning in his embarrassment further.  

The blush on the man's face tones down considerably and he takes her hand. His large, calloused hand dwarfs her small soft one in a way that makes his heart twitch. As a medic, he has a strong urge to protect people smaller and less durable than himself. This sentiment usually only umbrellas everyone on his team, but apparently extends to this clever, captivating woman sitting next to him.

"My apologies, ma'am. I didn't mean to be rude, honest. After six years in the military, you sort of forget that it's polite to introduce yourself instead of expecting everyone to read the name stamped on all your clothes. Or, at least attempt to read it," he explains and gestures at his nameplate. His last name has a lot of consonants and few vowels, thanks to his heritage, and not many people could pronounce it if they tried.  

Nora smiles and nods understandingly. If she had been keen on showing off, she might have been tempted to call him by his last name without being prompted if it didn't look damned impossible to pronounce.  

"It's alright, we'll only have to manage a bit longer. Looks like Jenny might clean house," Nora takes a preemptive victory sip of her drink. It's down to Jenny, Spurlock, and Mears but Jenny's got that look on her face that she might be in trouble, which usually means just the opposite.  

"You think so?" he asks, and leans his elbows back against the bar, his pose open and confident. Nora's brow furrows a bit and tries to pay closer attention to the game but her attention is pulled to him popping a few more buttons on his jacket and leaning back further. If he's getting comfortable, there must have been something she missed.  

Jenny shows her hand with a good girl smile: flush. Nora grins and is halfway to gloating when Spurlock cuts it off with a triumphant yell.  

"Hah! I finally beat you, girl! Four of a kind!" Spurlock slams her cards down with a huge smile while Jenny drums her fingers on the table.  

"Well, I don't know about that, ma'am," Jenny says to Spurlock while looking pointedly at Mears.  

Mears slowly puts his hand down on the table, one card at a time.  

Ace. King. Queen. Jack. Ten.    

"Royal flush," Spurlock says reverently, like she can't believe it. She looks from Jenny to Mears, wondering how she could have possibly known.  Meanwhile, Mears was completely losing his mind.  

"I finally fuckin' did it, you swindling broad! I _beat_ you Spurlock! Holy shit, Sarge, did you see that? I deserve a goddamn _Medal of Honor_ for this. I want this moment to be immortalized _on my fucking grave_. I want it in stone that on this fine July night in the year 2075, Private Lawrence _fuckin’_ Mears beat _Corporal Spurlock_ in cards," Mears continues in this fashion until his words are drown out by the cheers and shouts of the rest of the men.  

Jenny offers an apologetic smile and holds her hand out to Spurlock, who takes it with a resigned sigh before sinking down into her chair to mutter _"a royal fucking flush"_ to herself. Jenny excuses herself and makes her way over to the pay phones to check in with her fiancé, no doubt.

Meanwhile, Nora's mouth is hanging open a bit while the man tries his best not to laugh at her expense.  

"Well, that was certainly unexpected," he says, disguising a laugh with a cough. "But I am a firm believer in the phrase 'ladies first'." He offers his hand to Nora and smiles when Nora composes herself enough to take it.  

"Nora," she chokes a little dryly. She's never known Jenny to lose on purpose before. She clears her throat and tries again. "My name is Nora."

"Nora," he says, testing her name on his tongue. He decides he likes it. "It's a true pleasure to meet you, Nora. My name is Nathaniel, but everyone calls me Nate. Now how about that dance?"

Nora has to appreciate his straightforwardness.

* * *

Nate, a bit more confidence in his step, makes his way to the jukebox and punches in as many songs as he knows. The rest of the soldiers clapping his back and trying to pull him into a recount of the night's historic card game. Nate looks through the crowd for Nora but she just smiles and shrugs in understanding. At the same time, Jenny makes her way back to Nora from the phones, light on her feet with an eager smile.  

"Well, Nora, did you see it? At first I was planning on taking them for all they were worth but poor Mears was just _stewing_ and I felt so bad for him I just _had_ to help him out," she gushes, like she gave a stray puppy table scraps instead of what she actually did: rigging a card game for a specific man to win a substantial amount of cash against soldiers that are probably trained to kill.  

"Even I was fooled," Nora admits to her friend's immense glee. "In fact, you just made me lose a bet with that guy who was sitting next to me."

"There was a man next to you? I thought I was playing them all," Jenny says as she scans the room for a face that wasn't at the card game. When she finds him, her eyes grow wide and she grips Nora's arm.  

"Oh, _Nora_ , and what a _man_!" she hisses under her breath excitedly. "I just got done talking my sweetheart into stopping in for a few drinks but if you'd rather spend time with tall, dark, and handsome, I would understand. And be a bit jealous. Maybe." Jenny gives Nate a few side glances to appraise him while Nora laughs.  

"Yeah, right," Nora scoffs. "From what I hear, your beau is right out of a fairy tale and some bar hopping soldier isn't going to keep you apart." She's never met Jenny's fiancé, but from how her friend gushes about him constantly, Nora can tell he's something special to her.  

Nora follows Jenny's eye line to join her in appraising Nate as he makes a few side glances in her direction. Their eyes meet and Nate gives Nora a small apologetic smile from across the room. That seals it.  

"If you want to spend the rest of the evening with your fiancé, I can find another way home," Nora says while she tries to sound noncommittal, her eyes not leaving Nate. Jenny is smiling far too wide for someone being blown off for a man.

"Knock him dead, honey!" Jenny takes Nora's hands in hers and squeezes in excitement before scuttling towards the bathroom to primp, no doubt, before her own man arrives.  

At the same time, Mears is regaling Nate with his version of the card game. It's similar to how the actual game played out, as long as you don't pay any attention to what he says.  

"And I saw it in their fucking eyes, Nate. It's like God himself came down and whispered in my ear what cards they had, man, _I just knew_ ," the new drink in his hand sloshes with how animated he is. Nate has an eyebrow raised isn't about to rain on his parade. Lawrence Mears is a tough son of a bitch and anything that goes in his favor is worth the bragging afterwards. Well, maybe almost worth it.  

Somewhere between Mears describing Spurlock with tears in her eyes and Jenny throwing her engagement ring away, Nate makes eye contact with Nora and pleads with his eyes to save him. She raises an eyebrow at the jukebox and Nate smiles. Clapping Mears on the shoulder, he excuses himself and doesn't listen to whatever the man happens to be sputtering as he beelines for Nora.  

As if on cue, the jukebox clicks over to an upbeat dancing tune. It's nothing either of them really recognize but it doesn't matter. Dancing is the last thing on either of their minds.

Nate holds out a hand near her waist and leans in close to her ear to be heard. 

"Would you care to dance, Nora?" Nate's voice just a rumble over the soldiers' noise and she could feel it resonate through his chest.  

Nora flushes at the closeness and looks up to see him smiling, not predatory, but wide and honest. She sighs contentedly at finally, _finally_ finding someone worth the time who isn't scared off by her wit. Her laugh bubbles up from her stomach and her fingers draw circles in his opened palm.  

Nate's heart stutters at her laugh. Everything about Nora was delicate, from her dark hair to her chin: except her wit and her laugh. Nate finds himself admiring her for the former while being hopelessly attracted to the latter. A pretty face was one thing, but this woman's laugh was something else. It didn't ring false like any other girl he's met, who humor him until he buys them a drink then vanish. It sounded truthful and well-earned on his part.  It was low and teasing. He could hear her intellect and her lust in every note.

He wanted to hear her laugh again. He thought, mind hazed by alcohol, smoke, and neon, that he wanted to hear every sound her mouth could make, from shouts of anger to moans of passion.

"Actually, I was thinking we could get out of here," Nora tells him honestly. Her fingertips are gliding up past his palms and making trails of fire up his forearms. She watches as his train of thought stutters, then kicks into overdrive.

"I'll be waiting outside at my car when you're ready, private," she tells him in a low voice.  

 _This woman will be the death of me_ , Nate muses as she slinks away.

* * *

Nora walks over to Jenny, putting a bit of effort into the sway of her hips, if she's honest, and grabs her coat.

"Do we have a winner, darling?" Jenny asks sweetly, already knowing the answer from the look on her face.

"Full marks so far," Nora says with a wink and lays her coat on the bar top next to her friend. "Is it alright for me to leave you here?"

"I'm a big girl, Nora, it's fine," Jenny waves her off, nodding and taking a pull of her cocktail. The drink is a loud shade of pink, but Nora knows there's a shot of whiskey hidden under all the candied cherries and sugared rim.

"I think I should be more worried about the soldiers you swindled instead of your well-being," Nora deadpans.  

"Speaking of worried, should I give him the ol' 'Nora's my best friend and if you hurt her, they'll never find the body?'" Jenny asks innocently while drumming her nails on the bar top.

"Surprisingly, no, he doesn't seem the type to mess around. Even if you did threaten him, I think it'd scare him away," Nora glances a bit nervously at Nate while he talks with Sergeant Daniels. Jenny notices her line of sight and nudges Nora with an elbow.  

"Go! Have fun, but don't get caught with your skirt around your ankles, doll. Call the bar if you need me, I'll be here for awhile," Jenny implores.  

"Alright, but if anything changes with you, call me and I'll come right back. I don't care what state of undress I'm in," Nora says and Jenny's laugh bubbles up from her chest.  

With one last smile for her friend and without looking back at Nate, she leaves the bar.

It's a warm summer evening and she appreciates the fresh air away from the smoke in the bar. The abrupt silence leaves her ears ringing a little as she finds her car, which isn't hard. Amidst all the flashy pastel colors is her muted silver car.

She figures she has a few minutes to herself before Nate meets her out here so she gets comfortable and props herself up to sit on the trunk of her car. Taking a calming deep breath, she's thankful she only had a couple drinks tonight and is still fully functional to drive them both to her place.  

 _I can't believe I'm doing this_ , she thinks to herself with a small smirk.  

The idea of taking a man to her place after such a long time (months) is making her giddy. There just hasn't been enough time between working and studying for her to socialize at all, forget men. But something in Nate has piqued her interest, finally. He's a soldier, but doesn't seem to let that define who he is. He was thoughtful enough to give her space and allow her to choose where the night went, yet showed his interest with a tactical finesse.

 _What a man_ , she reflects and looks up at the stars.

* * *

Nate wastes no time following. After metaphorically picking his jaw off the floor, he makes his way over to Sergeant Daniels and the others to say goodbye.  

"So, it's getting late…" Nate starts awkwardly. He clears his throat. He's under no illusions: everyone in this room knows that he is ( _hopefully_ ) about to get laid, but he still puts up the front to be a gentleman. While his team might laugh and wish him luck, they know him. They courtesy isn't extended to Nora and there's no denying what it looks like when a woman takes a soldier back to her place. But, to Nate, it just doesn't feel like that to him. It feels more powerful than that. He's got electricity running through his veins in anticipation and none of it is going further south than his heart. Yet.  

Mears had enough time to make the filthiest grin and open his mouth before Sergeant Daniels clapped him on the back with a warning look. Mears snaps his mouth shut audibly but keeps the grin.

Daniels takes a moment to consider the situation. Nate isn't the quietest one on the team, not like Dawkins or Elliot, who need looking after because they're meek. Nor is he like Mears and Spurlock who need a military-issued leash to keep them under control. But he's an honest man that does his work and doesn't get into trouble often, which Daniels appreciates in his soldiers. Not to mention he's a damn fine medic and an even better shot.

He doesn't need permission to go: Daniels's men are officially on leave for a solid month before they head back to Anchorage. But that doesn't mean he isn't responsible for them.

"Check in Monday at 0800 hours on my personal phone or I send in the cavalry," Daniels says firmly. He nods once at Nate and once more towards the door.  

Nate sighs in relief that the matter was handled and dropped much quicker than expected. When Mears or Spurlock try to pick up strangers in a bar, Daniels makes them fill out contact information forms that have a punishment clause at the bottom. Needless to say, that process is long, drawn out, and embarrassing.

Reaching the door, Nate takes a moment to smooth down his hair and button his jacket back up. Just because she found him attractive enough in a hazy dive bar doesn't mean she'll appreciate his disheveled state anywhere else.

Satisfied that most of the wrinkles in his jacket were smoothed out, he walks out the door only to bump into someone else.  

"Excuse me, soldier" a world-weary voice mumbles from under a fedora and trenchcoat. His collar is turned up, hiding most of his face.  

"I'm sorry, sir, I wasn’t paying attention, I was just-" Nate cuts himself off and glances outside. The man's laugh is a bit cynical as he lights a cigarette. The match blazes and lights his face for an instant, but all Nate can see in the cloud of smoke are golden eyes.  

"Ah, so that's your  dame in the lot. No need to explain. I'm here for a girl, myself," he nods towards the bar where Jenny sits, gently stirring her drink with an untouched whiskey next to her. As her gaze slips over to the door, her eyes light up.  

"Nicky!" she squeals, and begins to dart over. The man smiles with the cigarette between his teeth.

"Have a good evening, soldier. Just don't get yourself in too much trouble," the man chuckles sardonically and meets Jenny halfway, picking her up and twirling her around.  

Nate shakes his head lightly with a small smile. After taking one last look at his reflection, he exits the bar.  

Neon or not, the bar was pretty well-lit inside and his eyes need a moment to adjust. As they do, he scans the parking lot looking for her. He finds Nora sitting on top of a car looking at the sky. It was late, around midnight, but the light pollution from Boston meant the stars were never really as bright as they should be.

Staring at her, a smile draws up his lips. Even sitting atop a car in a skirt, he can tell this isn't your average woman. Her legs are tucked under her modestly and although he was tempted into unbuttoning his own jacket, her blouse is firmly ( _sadly_ ) still in place. She's neat, charismatic, intelligent, and made the decision to invite him to her place for the night.  

With a glance to the dim stars, Nate wonders what he did to deserve this moment.  

"I wish we could see them better here. The stars, I mean," Nora says softly as if she didn't want to disturb the night.

"Each of them are as bright as a lightbulb in Anchorage. Most nights, you don't even need a flashlight. But it really doesn't compare to this view," he says, eyes firmly on her form and he offers her a hand to get down.

"Flatterer," she chides half-heartedly and puts her hand in his.

* * *

Nora takes his hand and allows him to help her off the trunk. On the way down, he snakes an arm around her waist to distribute her weight evenly and it gives her butterflies. Once she's grounded, he immediately released her and offers an arm. She smiles and lets him escort her to the driver's side.  

"Are you alright to drive, Nora?" Nate asks aloud, but thinks: _Are you alright with this?_ He watched her nurse a cocktail for awhile but isn't sure how much she had before that. If she's too impaired to drive, she's too impaired for this, whatever this was. As much as he wants it, that's not the kind of man he is. She laughs and waves him off.  

"I would quote the exact text of the law--Massachusetts OUI law section 24.A--but they spend a lot of time defining who the law applies to when it would have been faster to just say that _everybody_ who drinks and drives gets in trouble," she says with a dramatic huff and a noncommittal gesture of her hand.  

"You being _extensively familiar_ with that specific law is doing nothing to ease my mind, Nora," Nate tells her, getting ready to turn around and walk back into the bar. But when Nora laughs, he finds the tension leaving him.  

"I'm a _lawyer_ , Nate. Well, about to be one, anyway. Usually the people like us to be well-versed in laws," she laughs dryly and settles into the driver's seat.

 _No wonder she's so observant_ , Nate sighs to himself and opens the passenger side door.

Nora coaxes the car to life, engine crackling with energy from the miniature nuclear reactor that's nestled under the hood. As she pulls out of the parking lot, Nate racks his brain for something to talk about.

"So, a lawyer, huh?" he says, then mentally punches himself in the mouth. _Smooth, Nate. Real smooth_. He's about ready to open the car door and throw himself into traffic when she laughs.  

"Yeah, a lawyer," she says between laughing fits. "I graduated recently. All that's left is for me to take the bar exam and it'll be official. What about you, soldier? What's your job title besides _'American hero'_?"

"Not much of a hero, I'm afraid. But I do get to patch them up every so often," he shrugs. "Actually, everyone in the 108th you met back there were all medics."

"Not a hero?!" Nora exclaims with a wicked smirk and allowing thick sarcasm to penetrate her words. "Why, I've been deceived and duped, sir! I demand you leave the car at once!" She dissolves into laughter as Nate chuckles.  

"You'd be surprised at how many people actually think that way," he tells her and shakes his head. "Don't get me wrong, the 108th can defend itself if we were ever attacked. But we'd rather be patching up holes instead of making them."

"Well, if you ask me, there's nothing more heroic than that," she says honestly and puts a hand on his leg.

Nate feels the blood leave his head and shoot south, only to shoot back to his head to heat his cheeks in embarrassment. Torn between arousal and humiliation, his mind sputters.  

_Easy, Nate. It's just a hand on your thigh. Sure, it's been a year since you've seen a civilian female and even longer that you've felt one…but that doesn't mean I need to get all worked up over--oh my god._

Nora notes the heat in Nate's cheeks and feels like purring. It's obvious how affected he is by her hand as he squirms slightly in his seat and faces flushed cheeks towards the window. While she knows he's a man capable of lust like any other, it's satisfying to know she's the one driving him up the wall. With a devilish and smug expression, she starts drawing patterns in his thigh with her fingertips.  

A hand flies up to hide his face while Nate struggles to suppress a groan, and feels his pants straining. He will not last long in tonight's _festivities_. He can bet on it. All fantasies of impressing her tonight with his sexual prowess fly out the window along with his pride.  

"I hope you don't find this too forward, but you don't do this very often, do you?" Nora smiles somewhat apologetically.  

"No, ma'am, I do not," he says around his hand. He's embarrassed beyond belief and will honestly not be surprised if she throws him to the curb. She laughs low and retracts her hand.  

"I can tell. I'm sorry for teasing, really," Nora cranks the steering wheel as she pulls into her driveway. "Well, here we are. Home, sweet home."

Pulling his hand away from his face, Nate's nerves return. Hard-on be damned, he's just not used to this type of encounter. She takes his hand and plays with his fingertips lightly.  

"Are you gonna make it to the front door, hotshot?" she teases.  

"Don't tempt me," he grumbles and exits the car. Nora smiles to herself before turning off the car and gets out. Nate watches her unlock the door and opens it just a bit. He peers through the crack, but her home doesn't have a single light on. She gently takes one of his large hands with a mild squeeze and they both step into the darkness.

* * *

Despite the skylight's most valiant effort, Nora's house is near pitch-black. The front door opens into a small hallway, but beyond that, Nate can't see much of anything. Nora reaches around him and closes the door while he stands in the dark. She then snakes a hand up to the back of his neck and pulls him down so she can murmur in his ear. He's grateful that she can't see his cheeks flush in the dark.  

"So, do I need to be coy and ask if you'd like some coffee, or can we skip that part?" she asks him while she drags a finger up and down his arm. He appreciates her honesty and leans into her hair, following her lead.  

"By all means," his voice rumbles next to her ear. She hums in the back of her throat, pulling him down and catching his lips with hers lightly.

The kiss is hesitant at first and is mostly spent learning the shape of each other's lips with feather-light touches. One of Nate's hands comes up to caress her cheek as he leans into her a little more. Nora can feel his body sink and relax into the kiss, his nerves settling down at last.  

 _Finally_ , she thinks and nips at his bottom lip with her teeth.  

Nate groans softly into her mouth and he brings his other hand to her waist to pull her a little closer. He probes her lips with his tongue lightly, asking for permission but receiving a battle as her tongue lashes out to roughly clash with his own. She leans into the kiss, dominating his mouth with hers as she feels him grip her waist a little more firmly.  

Nora tugs on his jacket and he complies without a word, lips still glued to hers. In his haste, he fumbles with the buttons and is about ready to tear the thing off him until Nora's hands come up to steady his own. She takes him by the wrists and plants his hands to her hips while she works the buttons. His fingers knead into her skirt and gently tug at the waistband, loosening her blouse from where its been tucked in.

Buttons conquered, Nora breaks the kiss to shove his sleeves back. With a small noise of complaint, Nate grapples with his sleeves until his arms are free again. He's about to kiss her again when Nora puts a hand on his chest to stop him.

Confused and panting, he raises an eyebrow only to see her eyes fixated firmly on his chest. Nora is enchanted with the way her fingers look splayed across his tight t-shirt. In her head, it's logical that military-equals-fit, but this man's body was making her believe in a higher power, as well as making her feel absolutely aroused. Putting her other hand on his chest, she caresses every swell of muscle, every valley of definition that she can gingerly, like touching a work of art.  

This sudden tenderness is as startling to Nate as her biting his lip and once again, he finds himself driven wild by this woman, almost painfully hard. He brings his hands up to her cheeks to get her attention. Her eyes are dark and she looks surprised, like she can't believe her luck.  

 _Now she knows how I feel_ , he thinks and brings his mouth down to softly kiss her. Their tongues dance instead of clash, hands caress instead of grab. He allows his hands to drop to her waist and gently pulls at the hem of her blouse. Nora nods and hums while Nate begins to slowly undo each button with nervous fingers. The almost-sheer fabric glides to the floor.

Being a gentleman, Nate takes a moment to remove his own shirt so she's not the only one half-naked. Shirt off, his vision is filled with milky breasts spilling over a black lace bra. Her figure flares out from the waist to draw attention to the skirt sitting low, low on her hip bones.  

"God, you're perfect," he says reverently and it's like a fire is lit inside Nora's chest again. She wants to devour him, to keep him with her for as long as she can, if only just to see the adoring look in his eyes every time they touched.  

She takes her time raking her eyes over his impressive form. His pecs are everything a girl could dream of, strong and firm without chest hair. Eyes scanning downwards, she follows a light trail of hair down his defined abs, disappearing at his waistband. The fabric at his groin straining to hold him in. She licks her lips in anticipation.  

A little self-conscious, Nate ducks his head to meet her eyes. The small movement makes her gaze snap up to his and all he sees is lust grappling with fierce determination to drink her fill. He blushes but it only seems to fuel her fire.  

“I want you,” she whispers.  


Nora reaches up to kiss him, but at the last minute darts for his neck. As her mouth works a bruise, she slips one leg between his own to grind the soft flesh of her thigh against his ever-hardening cock. Nate shudders out a moan and she can feel it beneath her lips as she nips. The movement causes him to rut against her leg, embarrassingly eager for friction.  

"Nora, _please_ ," he begs, but his mind is so overstimulated that he doesn't know what he's asking for. Thankfully, she seems to have something in mind.

Nora's mouth separates from his neck with a small pop and she starts slowly unzipping her skirt. She pushes her skirt past her hips to show off a lacy matching thong. Nate stares blankly at her body, all sense of propriety and manners gone along with the skirt. Nora clears her throat and looks pointedly at his pants.

Nate's hands spring into action, undoing belt, buttons, and zippers until he's standing in her hallway in nothing but a pair of boxer briefs.  

 _Thank god for military-enforced physical training_ , Nora thinks as she tilts her head to admire his bottom half. The muscles in his legs are stacked and defined, jutting out from bone and making valleys between each muscle group. His boxers are taut against his thighs and ass while his cock strains for freedom, its form clearly outlined in the stretched material.  

As she stares, Nora determines that he won't last long if they go straight to the bedroom. She looks him up and down; a career military man should have great stamina, right?

Smiling devilishly, she drops to her knees in the middle of the hallway and nuzzles his groin with her nose.

"Oh _god_ ," Nate prays and Nora hums out a laugh. Using her teeth, she drags his boxers down low enough to allow his cock to spring out. She flicks out the tip of her tongue and drags it from base to tip, keeping eye contact the whole time. He makes a strangled sound in the back of his throat and brings a hand up to smooth back her hair. He lets his palm rest against her cheek and she takes that as encouragement.

Licking her lips, Nora laps a bead of precum off his tip. Nate whimpers. With one hand supporting the base of his cock, she circles the head with her tongue then wraps her lips around it. She works her tongue back and forth, around the head and up the slit. Over and over she continues, until Nate's breathing is ragged with one hand splayed on the wall behind him for balance and the other grips her face lightly.

Looking into his face, she waits for him to make eye contact before she winks. Nora's mouth slides past the head and keeps going, going until her nose is buried into his stomach. Completely unprepared, Nate makes a noise he's not proud of and unconsciously thrusts into her mouth deeper. She constricts her throat around him and he moans shakily, lightly pulling at her hair.

Without allowing him to catch his breath, she sets a brisk pace, head bobbing up and down on him. Her tongue massages with every stroke, drawing louder sounds from his chest. She feels his muscles flexing under her steadying hands and knows he's close.  

"Nora," he rasps out and it's a warning and a prayer at the same time. Nora hums and sends vibrations shooting up his spine. His vision goes white and he shouts. Nate comes hard into the back of her throat, spreading his hand against the back of her head to lightly hold her in place.

Nora swallows around him, making his head spin. He's still painfully hard and her hot mouth is tempting him to thrust again. Releasing a shaky breath, he removes his hand from the back of her head and helps her up.

"What, are you done already, private?" she asks playfully while she drags a finger up the base of his still-hard cock.

His mouth crashes against hers, all lips and biting. Unexpectedly, he slips his tongue in and he tastes himself, bitter on her tongue. She moans as he laps into her mouth. He slides her panties down over her hips and shoves his own boxers to the floor, nudging them both aside with his foot. He fiddles with the clasp to her bra for a moment before her breasts spring loose to bounce, free of their restraints. He ducks down to kiss them, dragging his tongue around a nipple before sucking lightly. Nora gasps quietly as he slides his other hand between her legs.  

"Fuck, Nate," she groans out as he draws a finger slowly across her wet folds. He pulls his finger back and brings it to his mouth. Slowly, she watches him lick his finger eagerly, slipping a second digit in to suck at it as well. Nora didn't realize she was holding her breath until it left her in a stuttering sigh.

One hand playing with her breasts, Nate removes the fingers from his mouth leaving them shiny and wet. He slowly pushes a finger inside her and feels muscles clench around it. She's hot, even compared to the heat of his mouth, as he works one finger in and out. Nora squirms against him, mewling against the wall.  

" _Please_ ," she begs and he complies, sliding a second finger in. Nate pumps slowly, drawing her out while giving himself time to recharge from his own orgasm.

When Nora's moans go from breathy to deep and needy, he curves his fingers towards him, feeling for that spongy tissue. She moans loudly, her hand darting up to grab at his arm as she hikes a leg up to wrap around his hip.

" _More_ ," she breathes out. Her eyes are shining with passion as she looks into his own. He lets his thumb glide over slick flesh to find that button of nerves and he feels it send a jolt through her body. He works his thumb in tiny circles while pumping his fingers in deeper, putting more pressure on that spot. She bucks her hips lightly in time with the rhythm he's set and it's not long before she's completely undone.  

Nora comes with a yell, grabbing him hard as he feels her whole body seize up. The muscles inside her contract around his fingers and he feels her dripping around them. Nate slowly removes his fingers and she moans at the friction. He wipes his hand off on his own cock, making it slick.

Pushing between her legs, he lines up his head with her dripping wet heat. Applying a little pressure, he looks at her to make sure she's ready. She nods and angles her hips to take him easier at this angle. The slightest thrust and his tip slides inside of her. His thoughts grind to a halt as he struggles not to come immediately. Muscles hot and slick around him, it takes every bit of discipline to not slam into her immediately.  

Nora has no such discipline.

She slams her hips down, taking him in all at once. Nate's startled groan rips out of his chest to rumble against her breasts. He grabs her hips and starts moving inside her at a moderate pace. Despite already coming, he knows he won't last long with her moaning against him and the wet sounds smacking loudly in the dark hallway.  

Nate moves her hands up to his shoulders and mumbles for her to hold on. He grabs her up and in one smooth movement, Nora is braced between the wall and his chest, bouncing up and down on his cock. Her moans turn to singing and Nate's pace picks up.

His hips piston into her and he shifts her weight to support her with one arm. The slight change in angle causes him to brush against her in just the right way. His other hand snakes between them to pet her clit, rubbing and circling madly, spurring her to moan louder.

"Nate, please. _God_ , Nate don't stop," she begs nonsensically. Her focus is pinpointed to the heat building low in her stomach.  

Nora shrieks and clutches onto him while he continues to drive into her. Her muscles clamp down almost painfully around his cock and it pulls his own orgasm from him. He groans into the crook of her neck as he thrusts once, twice, and once more before stopping. He lets her down slowly, lowering her to unsteady feet.

Nora laughs shakily and leans up to kiss his cheek. Grabbing his hand, she leads him through the dark hallway and into a shadowy, spacious bedroom. Both spent, they climb under the sheets and Nora tucks herself against his side with a leg hiked over his own.  

"Night, Nate," she says with a small yawn and nuzzles his side lightly.  

With a kiss to the top of her head, he pulls her a little closer and wonders if there's such a thing as love at first sight.  

"Goodnight, Nora."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, guys! First Fallout 4 fic. Check out my tumblr: [adistraughtthought ](http://www.adistraughtthought.tumblr.com)for more stuff like videos, headcanons, timelines, and research papers exploring the correlation between cave fungus and Mac's bad teeth. :)


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